


Trick or Treat

by BAU_Bitch



Category: Criminal Minds (US TV)
Genre: Age Difference, Can you tell that Halloween is my fave holiday, Candy, Dirty Talk, Engagement, F/M, Female Reader, Fluff and Smut, Halloween, Light Bondage, Light Dom/sub, Love Confessions, Marriage Proposal, Mentions of BAU, Mentions of Emily Prentiss - Freeform, Shameless Smut, Trick or Treating
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-31
Updated: 2020-10-31
Packaged: 2021-03-09 02:28:26
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,973
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27297166
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BAU_Bitch/pseuds/BAU_Bitch
Summary: Hotch brings Jack over for some trick or treating fun... and the reader gets quite the treat after
Relationships: Aaron Hotchner/Reader
Kudos: 66





	Trick or Treat

**Author's Note:**

> In case it isn't clear from the existence of this fic... I absolutely love Halloween. So it felt wrong to not write a story in tribute to it.

Your doorbell rings at half past seven, and you rush to the door, stopping one last time to fix your makeup. You had decided to go as Elle Woods from Legally Blonde, and so it was crucial that you pull off the flawless look. It was no secret that Halloween was your favorite holiday; perhaps that was why Jack and Hotch were coming to your place this time around. You had covered it from head to toe both inside and out, fake graveyards and talking witches in every corner. Satisfied with your look, you pull the door open to reveal a very cute Jack, dressed as a minion from Minions. 

“Trick or treat!” He cries, and you grin, grabbing the bowl of candy off of the table next to you to offer him a piece. He grabs a packet of skittles before dropping them into his little jack o lantern bucket and pushing past you to get inside. This wasn’t the Hotchner’s first trip to your house, and it certainly wouldn’t be the last. You chuckle and raise your gaze, making eye contact with Hotch. He’s dressed as… himself.

“No costume?” You ask, and he gives you a half hearted smile. 

“Nah,” he says, grabbing a mini kitkat from your bowl of candy before you have time to swat his hand away. “I’m going as dad this year, since normally I go as an FBI Agent.” 

“A very hot one, if we’re being honest,” you say with a flirtatious wink, and he steps past you into the house. “No costume, no candy, though,” you say sadly, taking the kitkat from his hands once you’ve pushed the front door closed and he’s let his guard down. He doesn’t seem bothered at all.

“That’s okay. If things go as planned I’ll be having something much sweeter later tonight,” he says suggestively, and you gasp when you realize what he was implying. 

“Aaron Hotchner!” You scold, but you never get to finish because a skeleton in your kitchen begins dancing to “Spooky, Scary, Skeletons” and Jack lets out a delighted little shriek. You and Hotch make eye contact, his look promising of things to come, before he winks and takes off in the direction of the kitchen. By the time you get there, he’s holding Jack tightly to his chest and dancing along with the skeleton, Jack’s bowl of candy forgotten on the floor. When he sees you, he makes grabby hands in your direction, and you pause. Hotch dancing with his son was by far the cutest thing you had seen all day, and you didn’t want to deprive Aaron of that moment. However, he seems delighted that Jack had taken such an interest in you all of a sudden. He hands Jack over to you, and when you grab the little boy, your shirt rides up a bit at your waist. Hotch stares at the exposed skin with thinly veiled lust, and you roll your eyes. “Get your mind out of the gutter,” you joke, tickling Jack’s side while doing so. He lets out a squeal and is soon demanding to be put down.

“I want to go trick or treating,” he says to Aaron, hands on his hips, and Hotch raises an eyebrow at his son. 

“Do you now?” He asks.

“Yes.” Jack says matter of factly, staring his father down. You can’t help but notice that he inherited the Hotchner stare. The one you were deathly afraid of when you first started at BAU. 

“Do you want me to take you?” Jack shakes his head. You lived in a fairly safe, suburban neighborhood, and there were parents lining the streets right and left. “Why not?”

“You don’t have a costume. I’m surprised Ms. Y/N let you into her house.” You have to stuff your fist into your mouth to stop yourself from dissolving into a fit of laughter, and even Hotch’s eyes glitter with amusement. “She’s very good at Halloween. You wouldn’t even put on a different shirt.” Jack seems so very serious about the matter that you know you have to come up with a solution.

“I think I have a pirate costume downstairs that I bought for your dad last year that he never wore. Do you want to come look with me?” You ask Jack, offering him your hand, and he takes it eagerly. 

“She always fixes your problems, daddy,” he shoots over his shoulder on your way towards the basement.

“Yeah, daddy. Stop making me fix your problems,” you say, swinging your hips as you walk, and you swear you hear him choke behind you. 

“You’re a good girlfriend,” Jack tells you as you’re rifling through old costumes, shoved away in a storage bin but yet still folded neatly with all the accessories. You pause to look at him.

“Why thank you, Jack,” you say, returning back to your dig, shifting away a mermaid costume you had leant to Emily two years ago. You briefly consider presenting that to Hotch instead, but then you might not get your treat later. There’s a reason it's a trick OR treat. “You’re a good kid.” He smiles.

“I know! I won kid of the week last year. I put a picture of you and me and daddy at Uncle Rossi’s on my paper.” Tears prick the corners of your eyes. 

“Well thank you so much, Jack,” you say, and he nods. A moment later you procure the pirate costume, a knockoff Johnny Depp on the front. “Here it is!” You fish out the bandana from the bottom of the bin too, handing it to Jack. “Can you carry this for me?” He nods before bolting from the basement. You sigh, packing the things back up and returning them to their place on the shelf before following. When you get upstairs, Jack is frantically whispering to his father, who is nodding enthusiastically. When they see you coming, they pull away, both wearing matching suspicious facial expressions. “What are you boys up to?” You question, playfully cocking a hip.

“Nothing!” They exclaim in unison, and you tut. 

“No surprises!” You say, and they exchange another glance. You vaguely wonder what they could be up to. Deciding it isn’t worth much of your time as you would most likely find out later, you hand Aaron the Halloween costume. “Here.” He looks it up and down, a cross of amusement and a frown on his face.

“You don’t honestly expect me to wear this?” He asks, and you take a step forward, unpackaging it for him. 

“Of course I do,” you say as if it were obvious, draping the eyepatch over his eye. He makes his serious face, one he only uses when Prentiss has said something painfully stupid, and you dissolve into giggles. “Go put this on,” you thrust the rest back at him, and point in the direction of the bathroom. He doesn’t put up a fight, only trudges over to the bathroom.

When he comes out, your breath hitches. It might be a cheap costume, but he wears it well. The white shirt hangs loosely from his chest, but is tight on the arms, showing off his muscular forearms that you love to be pinned by. The velvety pants cling to his ass, giving you a nice view, and the outline of his bulge is also slightly distinguishable, but only to those who are looking for it. You shiver a bit knowing he was all yours. The black vest highlights his jawline and shoulders, overall doing him a massive favor. He wears the bandana on his head, surprisingly, and it ruffles his hair so cutely. You just want to walk over and run your fingers through his soft black locks. You might have if not for Jack being in the room. Because it was almost a guarantee that that would lead to something… more. 

“Good enough?” He asks, putting his hands up and spinning in a slow circle.

“Very,” you whisper, licking your lips, and the lust returns to his eyes.

“You look good, dad!” Jack cries happily. He freezes and looks from you, to Aaron, and then back to you, before running over to his dad and whispering in his ear again. Aaron nods before approaching you slowly, and you once again can’t help but wonder what they have planned. Until Aaron drops to his knee, pulling a ring from the pocket of the costume, and Jack follows his lead. Your breath catches in your throat.

“Y/N Y/M/N Y/L/N, these past three years with you have been the best years of my life. Ever since you walked into my office in that cute skirt and asked where your desk was, I knew you were the one. Since then, I have watched you become part not only of the team, but the family. So now I ask you this: will you become a part of my family? Now and forever? Y/N, will you make me the happiest man alive and do me the honor of marrying me?” Tears well up in his eyes, and he looks terrified that you’re going to say no. Before you get the chance to answer, Jack begins talking.

“You make me and my dad happy. Plus you have a really cool Halloween set up. Please be my mom?” Somehow, that makes your heart swell more, and you fall to your knees, bursting into tears. You scoop them into a hug, sobbing “yes” over and over again. Eventually, you gather your bearings, and take a moment to admire the ring Hotch had acquired for you. It had one big, beautiful diamond in the middle, surrounded by your birth stones and his alternating. The band was a simple silver, and when you slipped it onto your finger, it felt perfectly. What a cliche, you can’t help but think. 

You loop your fingers behind Hotch’s neck, and his breathing catches, eyelids fluttering shut. You feel a familiar warm tug in your gut, and if his kid wasn’t present, you would jump his bones right there on your kitchen floor in front of the singing skeleton. Instead, you have to settle for a not-so-chaste kiss. You pull him to you, and when his lips meet yours, you gasp. He takes advantage of this to slide his tongue into your mouth, ravaging you and reminding you of the treat that awaits you in just a few hours. When he pulls away, you’re breathing heavily, and your legs feel like jelly. He leans close again, right to your ear, and his breath tickles, sending goosebumps up and down your arms. 

“I don’t think I can wait,” he whispers, and you squeeze your thighs together. “Jack can go trick or treating with your neighbor's kid, Damien?” All you can do is nod as his voice traps you in his spell. He draws back, and when he speaks to Jack, somehow manages to sound completely unaffected. Which, ironically, only affects you more, and you can feel your arousal begin to pool in your panties. “Why don’t you go trick or treat with Damien?” Jack jumps up and claps.

“Yes!” Then he runs from the room.

“Hey Jack!?” You call as an afterthought, voice hoarse. The footsteps stop. “Can you turn the porchlight off please?” He nods before slamming the front door behind him. “So trick or treaters know not to come. I don’t want to be interrupted,” you whisper to Aaron, and he nods. Then his arms are on either side of you, forcing you back, back, until you're up against the counter. He looks you dead in the eye as he tugs your hot pink skirt down. You moan, already bucking your hips at him.

“Look at you,” he pants. “So needy for me.” 

“Like you aren’t,” you scoff, gesturing to the growing bulge in his pants. He was getting hard, all because of you. He silences you with a kiss, grabbing your hair into a makeshift ponytail behind your head. He gives it a gentle tug, and when you whimper, he tugs a little harder. You begin to unbutton the pirate shirt that you had just forced him into. “Fuck, Aaron,” you breathe. “We should take this to the bedroom.” He nods, scooping you up bridal style. On the walk to the bedroom, you brush your hand against his erection. “Oops,” you whisper innocently when you feel him twitch beneath you and he growls. “It was an accident.” 

When you reach the bed, he practically throws you onto it, ripping your shirt off and then your bra. He grabs your breasts roughly, squeezing and massaging them. He takes one hand off your tit to force your legs open, and he sits between them, positioning his thigh against your clit as he leans down to suck on your nipple. You moan louder and writhe under his hot mouth, which carefully nips at your hardened bud. He moves to your other breast, hardening the nipple with his mouth while he twists your other pebbled nibble with his hand. Hotch forces his leg further between your legs so that you’re pressed hard against it, and you start to move in small circles, desperate from the friction. As soon as you begin to do so, he stops his work on your breasts entirely. 

“No,” he commands, voice low and hoarse. It causes more shivers to run through you and sends a rush of heat straight to your core. “Tonight, I do what I want with you, future Mrs. Hotchner. Do you understand?” You nod, and he smiles. “Good. Now… trick or treat?” You lick your lips. Under normal circumstances, you would pick trick, knowing that meant rougher sex. Him tying you to the bed and bringing you close to the edge before taking it away, stuffing your pussy with his cock as he pleased and using you like the whore he liked to remind you you were. But you just got engaged, and couldn’t hide from the trick or treaters forever. “Treat,” you breathe, and he nods, before his mouth descends on yours. His lips are hot and his tongue runs along the inside of your mouth, swallowing any cries you may have as he silently pulls your panties down. You can feel your arousal dribbling down your thighs, and Hotch’s eyes go almost completely black with want. 

He slides one finger into you, and he is met with no resistance. He masks his surprise at this relatively well as he slides a second finger in and then begins to rhythmically finger fuck you at a painfully slow pace. You whine, and he curls his fingers, hitting that spot just right. You open your mouth for a silent moan, and he takes advantage of the opportunity to spit into your mouth, a completely dirty but hot thing to do. “That’s your sweet for tonight,” he growls before inserting a third finger. “So fucking wet for me. Did you think about this all day? My big fingers ruining your tight little cunt?” 

“Yes, sir,” you gasp, feeling yourself near your orgasm. Your legs begin to tremble, and he rubs his thumb against your clit, only speeding up the process. Your walls clench tight around his fingers, and he begins to grope your breasts with his other hand. Your release comes fast, and hard, and you think you might’ve blacked out because when you come to, you’re on your hands and knees, his hands in your hair. 

“Are you ready for my cock, slut?” He asks, and you feel his tip prod at your entrance. When you nod, he slams into you, not waiting for you to adjust before he begins thrusting. You can feel him everywhere, exactly where you need, and his breathing is hot and loud in your ear. He reaches down to finger your clit once more, applying enough pressure to make you cum on the spot. You don’t, though, instead fighting it off to appreciate the feeling of your future husbands dick ramming into you at an impossible pace. Your moans are constant as you begin to babble.

“Yes sir, please, oh my God you feel so good. Please, fuck my tight pussy harder, I need you.” He responds to each word with an even harder thrust and even more pressure to your poor, overstimulated clit. You quickly dissolve into an incoherent mess, disjointed moans and dirty words filling the air with the sound of skin on skin.

“One more,” he grunts, his thrusts becoming erratic. “Give me one more orgasm, baby, I know you can,” he demands, and he pushes on your clit hard. 

“Aaron!” You scream. Your vision whites out as you tighten to impossible amounts on his thick cock, milking it for all it’s worth. Right as you start to come down from your high, he bottoms out, releasing his load into you. He thrusts a few more times, forcing his seed deeper into your cunt as he moans your name, the perfect treat for Halloween. The thought of his cum filling you is enough to send you over the edge one more time, almost passing out from the overstimulation. Hotch pulls out and collapses onto the bed next to you, dazed and sated. You look at him with adoration and he returns the look. “I love you,” you whisper quietly.

“I love you too, Y/N,” he says, throwing an arm over your back and pulling you close.

“Guess we got all dressed up for nothing,” you joke, gesturing to your discarded Halloween costumes. 

“I wouldn’t say for nothing,” he teases. “You certainly seemed to like my costume.” You hum in agreement.

“You’ll have to wear it more often.”

“Maybe next Halloween,” he mutters, before you fall asleep in his arms, exhausted and happy.


End file.
